


The Boss of Me

by Silberias



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, people whose name starts with H and ends with Yng die but no one tagged, tagged characters are not dead or dying calm your jets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5160302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silberias/pseuds/Silberias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stannis Baratheon went up to the Gates of the Moon a widower king and came down betrothed to a woman more dutiful and just than even himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His wife was beautiful--a beautiful woman that the whole of the Seven Kingdoms disagreed over. Some called her the Falcon of Arryn for having vanquished not only those loyal to Petyr Baelish but also all who tried to take the Eyrie from her cousin Robert Arryn by force. Some called her Kingslayer and Murderess, a whore unrivalled in Westeros since the time of Maegor the Cruel.

When Stannis had set up camp at the Gates of the Moon he had sent up a raven to the Eyrie asking for terms. They had waited for weeks--to occupy the time he had his men set to burying the dead Waynwood men that Sansa and Robert's men had slaughtered there. The Waynwoods had thought to press the claim of Harry Hardying over that of Robert Arryn. They had died by the hundreds for their impertinence. The smallfolk in the surrounding areas told them that for the man's gall Lady Sansa had tied a rope--many dozens of feet long--around Harry Hardyng's neck and then had him thrown from the Moon Door.

Hearing this, two years ago, Stannis had grimly wondered if he had right to judge the lady--Robert Arryn's claim was legitimate and sound. However fit the claimant might themselves feel, inheritance must go first by rights. He had made sure to say as much in the letter he'd attached to the raven's leg.

It was a thing of wonder to watch Lady Stark descend from the Eyrie with Lord Arryn after a moon's turn. She was resplendant in the somber colors of her House and even then he had felt his mouth go dry. Her cousin, too, was not so sickly as had been widely reported in the last few years. She had sent out a messenger, a mere wobbling boy, who addressed him, almost to a painful degree of propriety, by his titles as King of Westeros while she and Lord Robert stood impassive in the mouth of the gates.

Later, once his men were given assurance that arrows, rocks, and death would not rain down upon them as they made a better encampment for themselves, Lord Arryn invited him to a private supper. Only himself, Shireen, Lady Sansa, and Lord Robert would be in attendance. Perhaps it was because the food was to be shared with only a handful of people and he was half-starved but to Stannis it looked to be a kingly spread. Lady Sansa had certainly been uncomfortably beautiful in the candlelight--she possessed an even greater beauty than her mother had.

"Your Grace, you left my cousin Lord Rickon in Winterfell," Robert started. Stannis eyed the boy--young man now, he supposed--and wondered about something Robert had said in his cups. That he ought to have insisted that Stannis marry Lady Lysa instead of letting Jon Arryn have her--that they were pinch-faced and dour enough to deserve one another. That poor Jon didn't deserve such a harpy for a wife.

In that life this now-Lord of the Eyrie would be his son.

"Yes, he chose his own Lord Protector and personal guards," Stannis said, his tone this side of curt, "Lord Wyman Manderly, of White Harbor, who has both Lord Rickon's trust and that of Davos."

They ate in silence a while after that, Robert and Sansa glancing between each other in a distinctly conspiratorial manner. He tried to look at them as adults, his own softness with Shireen did not discount the experiences of these two orphans. Their parents had all gone quite unwillingly into death--Shireen's mother had sacrificed herself alongside Lady Melisandre to win their battle at the Wall and at Winterfell. Though being the child of a King was a kind of orphanhood on its own, he reflected as Shireen ate her supper with perfect manners.

"We have had news from Lord Manderly, Your Grace. My cousin isn't well, as you know. He remembers very little of his life at Winterfell, and nothing of Lady Sansa. Lord Manderly thinks seeing her, with her look so very close to Lady Catelyn's, will upset him deeply."

The words came from Lord Robert's mouth but glancing over at Lady Sansa he knew that they were hers. Stannis let them sink into silence before clearing his throat.

"And I am to take it that your bannermen now begin to chafe under what they perceive as yet another woman usurping the place of the Lord Arryn? Despite the strength it must have taken to bring them beyond Lord Baelish's yoke, they would not agree to marry the Lord Arryn to Winterfell's daughter."

"You are correct," the young man said, frowning in a way that made Stannis wonder about other adultered marriages of long past. Jon Arryn's first wife had died in childbed with a girl, his second before she even once quickened, and Lady Lysa had lost many babes and only this one survived. Brown haired, like his grandmother Minisa Whent by all accounts, for both of Jon Arryn's parents had been fair of hair. Stannis could not afford to lose the Vale, though, and speculating about Lord Robert Arryn would not foster goodwill. He grit his teeth at the thought, for it sounded through his head in Davos' gruff Fleabottom accent.

"They have not yet begun to question me as they did Lord Baelish, but we can see it is only a matter of time. My cousin does not like me to share her witticisms but all birds, even falcons, must learn to fly and they do so alone." It took Stannis aback for a moment--it had been nearly ten years since Jon Arryn's death, eight since Lord Stark had lost his head. These two people had been children then but now sat next to him as a grown Lord and Lady.

"I will speak with--" he paused. Davos had learned at a prodigious speed all that was required of him as Hand of the King--reading, sums, Houses, and lately even ancient bloodlines under Shireen's firm guidance. But Davos thought ancient grudges to be a scourge on the earth, the source of human suffering.

"You wish my father to find Lady Sansa a suitable match or occupation away from the Vale?" Through force of will alone Stannis managed to keep his shoulders from sagging in relief. Lady Sansa gave his daughter a warm smile at that, setting her utensils down and folding her hands in her lap before turning her eyes up to his.

"Lord Arryn and Lord Manderly each think highly of a proper demonstration of loyalty and alliance with the Crown," she said, her tone firm and belying her age, "and I am of suitable birth and years for my hand to be given."

Stannis had frozen, about to swallow a bite of food and nearly choking on it instead, as he realized why this meeting was so incredibly private. If he had objections he would not be forced to hold his tongue. If he thought the two young people impertinent he could say so.

Lady Sansa did not fidget under his alarmed stare, only met his eyes coolly once he'd regained his own composure. All he could think, looking at her lovely face, was that he would not become her latest abuser--if only because she had murdered or executed a great many of those who had harmed her.

"And do you, yourself, consent to such a notion? I have had one unhappy bride already and would spare the world another such pair of rulers." Her smile was brief at his words but did not reach her eyes.

"Kings do not have the luxury of brides who are happy beyond being queen--"

"So you wish to be queen?" he interrupted, wanting to get to the root of her motivations--for a woman such as herself would not content herself with playing as a pawn of men. If she was she would be warming Harry Hardyng's bed and Robert Arryn would be cold in his crypt, if his single--now dead--spy in the Eyrie could be believed.

"But," she continued after pausing for him to speak, "Your Grace will recall that you have your heir in Princess Shireen, and that the usual urgency of a royal match will be much reduced. I might travel to Storm's End and help your bastard nephew learn his trade as castellan better, until we know one another well enough to wed." Stannis ground his teeth at the knowledge that she knew of Ser Gendry--a smith he'd found at the Crossroads who couldn't be anything but Robert's get. He'd acknowledged the young man as Robert's bastard and issued a writ claiming him as a knight for House Baratheon.

He had offered to fully legitimize the youth along with giving him Shireen's hand in marriage. To his shock Ser Gendry had declined to accept the plan--the offer of becoming King of Westeros someday thrown back at Stannis like chaff in the wind. He had wanted to give in to fury at the slight but Davos had counseled him against it. Ser Gendry was content to run a castle for whatever second son borne to Shireen, and that should be enough. Bastards were dangerous in this world and Ser Gendry's distinct knowledge of himself and his hard-won but warm smiles would have men flocking to him should he so wish it--men admired a man who understood himself and could show his joy.

"And if an incompatibility is found?"

"Then have me wed to your advantage," she said, not even a shrug to show for her nonchalance though she did lean forward a bit as she continued, "but know that I will not live in King's Landing unless I am queen. I made a vow never to return there save at the order of a member of my own family in agreeance with the rightful King of Westeros." Stannis bit the inside of his cheek at the comment, for he knew that there numbered very few who shared blood with Lady Sansa. Lord Rickon was one, as well as Lord Robert Arryn, but as of yet Lady Arya, Lord Brandon, and the Blackfish of House Tully were unaccounted for a likely dead.

Something spiteful in him demanded to be heard then.

"And if Lord Rickon had not been found, and Lord Robert had been murdered by Petyr Baelish, would you stand as Lady of Winterfell defiant against your king?" Lady Sansa smiled thinly and shrugged, her body language finally showing the disrespect he had been waiting for from either her or her cousin.

"That is not the talk of reality, Your Grace," Lord Robert said into the silence that stretched between them now, "for if Lord Rickon had not been found, Lady Sansa may not have acted in concert with my bannermen to save my life. She would be the wedded and bedded wife of the traitor Harry Hardyng, and would be given no choice as to the doings of Winterfell."

And the young Lord of Arryn's words concluded the matter, ultimately, for within a fortnight Stannis agreed to Lady Sansa's terms. Within a year he had married her--and now, two years after setting up camp at the base of the Gates of the Moon, his wife aided himself and his Hand in the dealings of the Realm on a daily basis. The court stirred and murmured against her even now, for she would walk about the palace with their daughter, Princess Arsanna, on her hip--even going to the chamber of the Small Council with the infant tucked securely against her waist.

She was dutiful to the point of embarrassment but wary of all save himself and his bastard niece Mya Stone, refusing to be assigned any guards save those who were sent by Lord Manderly and Lord Arryn. Queen Sansa was, if anything, even more powerful than she'd been as the Falcon of Arryn. He watched her now as she walked confidently through the court towards him as he sat on the Iron Throne.

"Your Grace," she addressed him, sinking into a curtsy that was perfect even as she clutched Arsanna to her side, "I bring good tidings this morning." Stannis resisted smiling for he knew what she was about to say, for she'd quietly told him this morning as Arsanna nursed greedily from her breast. In the predawn light with her hair down around her shoulders, her face lit only by candles, she had looked radiant.

"Please continue, then," he said, waving her up from her curtsy. He idly wondered at how strong she was, able to hold the pose while controlling their five month old daughter.

"Within the year I will give Crown Princess Shireen and her sister Princess Arsanna another sibling," she announced, her voice clear above the rustling and murmurs of the court. Stannis inclined his head while Shireen stood from her seat next to him.

"Then the Realm must congratulate you, Queen Sansa, for the Gods have blessed you," she said loudly as she walked to Sansa's side and kissed the other woman's cheek. The court sank into the appropriate bows and curtsies as Shireen turned them both to face the assembled lords and ladies. Unlike the announcement of Sansa's first pregnancy, none dared express a wish that she bear Stannis his long-awaited son for she had certainly given those nobles a verbal lashing. Sansa had giggled when he'd complained, letting him catch her by the waist and pull her close.

She might have been a she-wolf, then a falcon, but she was fury itself that day. A true Baratheon, and Stannis found her beautiful for it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first time Sansa announced her pregnancy, long before she stood before Stannis with Princess Arsanna perched on her hip. The court learned better than to talk down to her that day. 
> 
> Tiny, but here you go :)

Sansa stood below the Iron Throne in a bright yellow dress, black trimming looping and swirling in antler patterns across her ever-so-slightly-bulging belly. She had one hand balled into a fist resting on her hip, the other flat across her stomach. She looked elegant in her rage, her white steel crown glittering with Dornish diamonds as it sat on her bright red hair twisted and plaited into elaborate braids.

"My child is not His Grace's heir," she said, her voice high and clear, "Princess Shireen is the heir to the Iron Throne. Princess Shireen who has suffered along with her father King Stannis who is by all rights in the eyes of Men and Gods the King of Westeros. My child is part and parcel of my duty to my husband, but it shall not grow as his heir. Unless of course," when she paused even Stannis held his breath, "unless of course the Lord of Banefort means to suggest some ill-portent to the health of Crown Princess Shireen? The Princess who, by traditions ranging from the North down to the very southern reaches of Dorne, stands as the rightful and lawful heir to the Realm?"

The court was silent, shocked in the midst of their congratulations of their queen. There were many here, Stannis knew, who had stood by and watched his wife's suffering under the rule of Joffrey the False. They had committed a great sin against her for which none of them had so far apologized. He sometimes wondered why for though she hated them and they knew it, so far the truce had been maintained. None had crossed her yet, he supposed, though a minor lord from the Westerlands had brought down her ire this day. Sansa was for the most part sweet and true, hard when it was required of her but otherwise she was gentle to the smallfolk and gave no unbalanced favor to those who asked for her time aside from Stannis himself.

When dealing with Stannis she gave him everything so freely that it felt sometimes greedy to take any of it. Her love, her small affections, her passionate kisses, her laughter, her advice. It was hard to part from her each morning, and he only went sometimes because she asked it of him--how differently he treated her than when they'd first met in the Eyrie.

"You owe your allegiance to my husband," she continued, "you owe him your loyalty. You owe him your lives and you spit in his face to insist on imposing your will against his own." Sansa's voice was remarkably even though he could see how rigidly she held herself as she stood before the court. He had felt anger rush through him sometimes but it seemed to be nothing compared to this woman. This was the woman the people of the Vale called The Falcon of Arryn, who had thrown a man through the Moon Door for the presumption of taking her cousin's claim.

"If my husband must bear such terrible treatment by his subjects, subjects he has bled and starved for throughout his life, the court shall not long enjoy his entertainments and generosity. Such effort and expense might easily be turned towards the sums already aiding the Realm in rebuilding. However King Stannis is as just as he is merciful. You shall trust in him and his daughter as you trust in the Seven, for without faith in our King and faith in the Light of the Seven we are lost. Septon Gamyon, would you lead us in a prayer?"

Stannis watched, a little in awe, as the chastened courtiers bowed their heads as the septon droned on--praying for a good Summer, a healthy child for the Queen, a long life for the King and his heir Princess Shireen. They would not be making such a mistake as asking after a male heir again in front of his wife.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo tell me how you liked it?


End file.
